


Elixir

by Infy



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, I'm trying things with Dom!Miriel, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4162578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infy/pseuds/Infy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miriel only laughs, her eyes fluttering shut and absentmindedly reaching for the glasses on the bridge of her nose. “A potion containing ground Lavandula libidinem. It’s an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac. A few added herbs for increased tactile sensitivity, some tonics to increase production of serotonin, testosterone, and norepinephrine to ensure heightened endurance and overall performance…” She lets out a contented yet worn-out sigh. “I think I may just add something for taste next time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elixir

Vaike always finds himself staring and wondering what exactly is going on in her head. Sometimes it’s easy to figure out, like when she’s eating something and it tastes real good, sometimes she’ll be like “this tastes excellent.” But those times that occur more often than not when she _doesn’t_ tell anyone what she’s thinking Vaike finds to be the most dangerous. Like when she’s at her desk, fiercely writing something down about some strange potion she’d never shown him before, and won’t even respond to his typical enthusiastic “Heya, Miri!”

Vaike purses his lips and approaches her slowly as she writes. He knows how frustrated she gets when she’s startled. “Miri…? Baby…?”

Miriel does not respond. Vaike huffs.

With a raise of his eyebrow, he leans in, enough that he could see what she was writing if not for her unintelligible note-taking cursive. He speaks again. “… Hey, Sully died.”

Miriel doesn’t look up from her notes.

“Did you hear I’m having an affair?”

She dips her quill again, casting quick glances up to the beaker of purple slop in front of her.

“… I rearranged your bookshelf.”

She immediately turns to face him. “--You did what…?!”

 _There we go._ Vaike smiles.  “I thought that might get your attention.”

“We’ve been over not to joke about organizational habits,” Miriel huffs, and she stacks her notes and sets them aside, making a concerned face at the sight of her sloppy, illegible handwriting. “Oh dear.”

“You’re pro’lly gonna need one of them rosacea stones to figure those out again.” Her husband raises his brow, casting a smirk over in Miriel’s direction. She only frowns.

“First of all, it’s the _Rosetta_ stone. Secondly, I… am glad you’re here.” She can’t help but smile slightly. “You’ve arrived just in time.” Usually when Vaike hears those words, he ends up the guinea pig for some new spell. Though they’re all (mostly) beneficial and usually go off without a hitch, there was always something about the idea of being a test subject that unsettled him. Even a subject for the most brilliant scientist in this or the next halidom. He only swallows thickly and nods. “I’m currently in the development phase of an elixir,” she continues. “Stahl provided me with basic instructions on apothecaric design, and I’ve created something… rather splendid, if I may say.” She flashes him another smile, and he can’t help but return it as he leans his hand on the desk and picks up the beaker, examining it with what he imagines to be the scrutinizing gaze of a scientist.

“Splendid, huh?” He finally says. “What’s it do?”

Miriel waves her hand dismissively. “Mm, details. In any case, I’d like for you to test it. Perhaps you might undergo a noticeable shift in body chemistry.”

Vaike raises an eyebrow and recoils slightly. She… isn’t going to tell him anything…? Pretty fishy. But curiosity never killed the Vaike, so he instead decides to probe a little bit. “Without knowing what it is?”

Miriel’s response is immediate, as if she had anticipated that question all along. “Do you know what the placebo effect is, dear?”

He frowns. What the hell is a potato effect…? “Has my answer changed the last twelve times you’ve asked if I know what something is?

A pause for a moment, and Miriel nods her head slightly with a defeated smile. “… Touché.” With a clear of her throat, she continues. “The placebo effect occurs when a change from a stimulus is expected, and causes in subjects the belief that the aforementioned change is happening, though no observable effects are present.” Another moment of silence—on the part of Vaike because he has no idea what she just said, and on the part of Miriel in the vain hope that he might possibly for once understand what she was talking about.

Vaike’s response finally comes. “In other words…”

Alas. Miriel sighs, pausing a moment to think of a translation to layman. “If you expect a change to happen,” she finally explains, adjusting her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “You may see it when it isn’t there.”

“So…” Vaike trails off, slightly afraid of being wrong. This is so gods-damned ridiculous, he has to have misheard. “…You’re not telling me what this does because if you do I might tell you it works when it doesn’t…?

“Precisely.”

Vaike casts a glance at the viscous substance in the beaker and makes a face. A hazy gray-purple with flecks of green and brown. The first comparison Vaike can think of is the bottled version of the aftermath of a wild and crazy Saturday night. He looks back at his wife, who seems as serious as usual. “… And I’m supposed to just… drink this gross looking syrup stuff because you told me to.”

Miriel casts a glance toward the beaker and scrutinizes it for a moment before passively admitting, “…That does sound like a rather unreasonable request.” Her eyes turn up and lock with her husband’s, and she instinctively leans a little closer to him in her chair. “But, that said… I’d like to think that you trust me, Vaike…”

“I… I do, baby, I do, it’s just… ah…” Vaike looks again at the substance, and back at his wife making doe eyes at him as if it’s her profession. Finally he sighs, setting the beaker back down on the desk. “Fine, one condition.”

Perking slightly with a smile, the mage immediately sheds the puppy eyes she’d practiced ad nauseum for this very moment. “Yes?”

“You and the Vaike drink together.”

A long pause, as Miriel recoils in surprise. She definitely hadn’t expected that condition. “I-It’s not a spirit, Vaike,” she stammers out, clearly caught off-guard. “You can’t just chug it down like liquor willy-nilly, you know. There are certain dosages and chemical additives that—

Vaike smiles triumphantly and turns his head away. “Fine, then no.” He casts a glance out of the corner of his eye at his wife’s expression, which he gathers to be somewhere between defeat and frustration.

It takes a moment for Miriel to sigh at the prospect, but there isn’t much else to her resistance. After all, it’d passed all other tests. And it wasn’t supposed to do anything _bad_. Just… different. “Ohh… fine.” She huffed, crossing her arms, raising herself from her chair and making a move to her cabinet to grab a couple wine glasses. “Just to prove no unscrupulous deeds are being planned, I’ll drink half and you’ll drink half. Although I must inform you that it’s only half a dose you’ll be ingesting.”

Vaike still manages to keep a hint of incredulity and skepticism, especially after watching her try to pour the slop settling into the bottom of the beaker into one of the glasses—it doesn’t want to budge. “Jeez, I feel like we’re doing something illegal.” She finally manages to pour one in the glass, and hands it to him. He hands it back to her. “Here, you take this. Teach’ll drink outta that little beaker thing.”

Handing him the rest, Miriel sniffs her glass and immediately recoils in disgust. “Oh dear.” Vaike follows suit, and his reaction is much the same. Miriel only chuckles nervously in response. “I, ah… didn’t pay much attention to flavor, so this may not be pleasant to ingest.”

Flashing back to the various brandies and syrups he’d choked down at his various alehouses, Vaike only offeres a falsely smug “heh”. His eyes don’t avert from the flecks of green and brown floating in the dark purple gunk and his nose can’t avoid the reek that assaults it. “I’m sure The Vaike has drank worse.” A lie, but whatever. “Well… bottoms up, I guess.”

Tipping back the glasses, they drink it like a shot, and neither of them remember ever drinking anything so vile. Or coughing so hard. Or wanting to throw up the _second_ they drank something as much as they did when the elixir hit their tongues.

Vaike manages to keep it down without a chaser, but he had to call out to Miriel who’d ran into the next room at full sprint to chug as much water as she possibly could. “Ugh! Gods, what’s in that stuff…?!”

Miriel tears her mouth away from the skin of water she’d grabbed, but only long enough to yell back, “A moment, if I may…!” before emptying it entirely. Vaike hasn’t even caught his breath from his coughing fit before Miriel trudges back into the room, flopping sloppily back into her chair. “Blech… It tastes like rotten grapefruit juice…” They cast glances at each other, and Vaike doesn’t seem amused. This better be worth it. “Even if it does work,” she continues, wiping her mouth. “I don’t know if it’s worth the gustatory assault.”

Vaike raises a curious brow. “We’ll have to see, then. How long does it take to kick in?”

She takes her notes that she’d set aside, and narrows her eyes in an attempt to read the scratch she’d written down. “If my hypothesis is correct…” she murmurs before another moment’s pause to search for it. “In my professional scientific opinion, it is my prediction that after about forty-five minutes you should start to feel a bit of paresthesia on your hands and feet.

“That… sounds both scary and painful.”

Miriel just stands up out of her chair with a chuckle and kisses him before taking his hand and leading him towards the door. “Just a bit of tingling, dear, don’t mind it. Now, go on about your day and when you start to feel different, come find me and we can proceed.”

Ushered out of the room far too quickly for his liking, he turns around as Miriel opens the door and gently pushes him out. “You sure ‘bout this, baby…?”

When he turns, he’s met with the expertly placed puppy-eyes of his wife. “Do you distrust me, Vaike…?” She mutters through a pursed frown. “I thought I…”

“… Ah… N-no… I… I trust you, but—“

“Good. Now carry on.” A shut of the door behind him, and Miriel dusts her hands and turns on her heel back to her work station. Sitting primly in her chair, she continues taking notes, preparing a report for whatever her potential test results might be. For a good while, nothing seems to happen. It seems as though half a dose is a negligible amount with little to no effect—

She drops her pencil. And when she picks it up again, the sensation tingles so severely that she can’t manage to hold on it, let alone take more notes. The beads of sweat on her forehead, every hair on her scalp, each individual eyelash... she feels everything. Everything she attempts to touch, she immediately recoils. The sensation is alien to her, and just as she’s completely prepared to try and grasp the doorknob to open the door, she opens it to find Vaike about ready to open it himself. They share what would have been a semi-awkward stare had they both not been terrified to touch literally anything. The first one to speak, as per usual, is Vaike.

“B-baby, I feel really weird.”

Miriel tries to smile reassuringly, making mental note of his severely dilated pupils. “Is… is that so…? Tell me about your symptoms—ah…” She tries to pick her pencil up once again, but the wooden sensation is still foreign enough on her fingers that she immediately drops it again.

“Touching things is all weird…” Vaike continues, and though it isn’t quite the scientific description Miriel would like, she finds herself able to relate completely. “Like I can feel every bit of it…”

Shrugging the thought away, Miriel attempts to focus on anything scientific. “It’s… working, then, I suppose. The effects of even half a dose are rather overwhelming.” She pauses, less for effect and less in an attempt to find words to describe what her racing thoughts were trying to tell her. “Ah… I suppose I should test your reflexes. Sit on the edge of the bed, if you’d please.” She grips a small magnifying glass in her hand tightly, fighting away the cold sensation and biting tingle that shredded though her arm to realize that… this… was quite pleasant, actually. The tingle slowly ebbed into a sensation that could only be described as _incredible._

“You good, baby…?” Vaike cocks his head to the side, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning on his hands behind him.

She snaps back to the current moment. “Ah…! Yes, yes, I’m fine, I apologize.” She stares at the glass in her hand. “It’s just… holding things feels much different than usual.” She approaches him, holding the edge of the magnifying glass to the bottom of his kneecap and giving it a light tap. His leg straightens.

“Your reflexes bear normal… hm… “ She puts her hand on his arm. An accidental touch, at least consciously, but the sensation of warm skin upon her hand creeps through her fingers. The only thing that draws her attention away from the feeling of his skin beneath her fingertips is the quiet “mmh…” her touch draws from her husband’s lips.

“Hm…?” a perked brow from Miriel, and Vaike opens his eyes barely long enough to see it.

He sighs, exhaling through his mouth. “That feels really…” her fingers shift, ever so lightly, and he inhales sharply before he can wrest any more words from his mouth. “…Really good. Just your hand there.”

Miriel perks, her curiosity finally piqued. “Interesting. Perhaps if I move it…?” She lifts her hand only slightly, dragging her first two fingers limply across his skin, and he sighs heavily as she rests her palm back down on his chest. Her voice, silk, wafting through his ears—he hums at the sensation. “How about here…?” she murmurs, her voice soft, and saved for only him in particular.

“It’s nice,” he mumbles. “Warm. You feel any different…?

Miriel can’t respond for a moment, her captivation at the feeling of Vaike’s skin beneath her fingertips too difficult to overcome. The words roll off her tongue slowly, and Vaike manages to put a hand on her thigh. “It’s a fascinating sensation…” she sighs through the tingling his touch brings her even through her pants. Miriel concentrates on her hands, where to move them. Her fingers ghost up his neck, across his face, and she runs them through his hair. His moans grow softly, and he curls an arm around her, pressing her closer to his body--

“… I’m… supposed to be taking notes.”

Vaike keeps his eyes closed and speaks softly.

“You got a brain like a steel trap, baby, that information ain’t goin’ anywhere any time soon.” He chuckles lightly, and the puff of breath he lets out stings her skin—she exhales with a gentle moan. “We should just take it easy. We ain’t got plans or nothin’…”

Miriel only barely opens her eyes, her cheek nuzzled into the crook of his neck, reveling in the feel of the tingling sensation on her skin. Only a murmur escapes her. “But I was planning to—“

“Nah, you wanna continue the experiment, so let’s just figure it out.” He leans in closer, cupping her cheek in his hand. “Lemme see how your lips taste.”

“I don’t believe taste is affected by—“ she stops talking. His lips press in against hers further, the sensation spreading to her tongue. Miriel fills her senses with him—she pulls him closer. Her racing thoughts shut off for the moment. All she can think to do is put enough pressure on his chest to back him down onto the bed, her body pressed up against him as she straddles him and kisses him as deeply as she can. It’s certainly better than anything in recent memory. So far a success. The only thing left to try…

“Clothes off.”

Vaike opens his eyes slightly. “Wha…?”

Miriel speaks between kisses, her body instinctively rocking against Vaike’s. She strokes his hair reverentially, the strands threading slowly through the interspaces of her fingers. “…You want to explore all possible avenues… isn’t that right?” Her words come in a delicate whisper, her lips and tongue sliding against his between phrases. “That’s what experimentation is. So let’s experiment. Clothes off.”

She feels his arms cinch tighter around her. “You first.”

No pause before Miriel immediately makes a move to slide Vaike’s pants down. “You’ve no authority over me, sir.” She murmurs sultrily, her breath hot on his neck as she presses her lips against it. He moans again, the heightened sensation of his wife’s kisses against his skin growing more pleasurable the more contact they have. “Clothes off… now.” She pins his wrists to the mattress and kisses him deeper. “Or I can just remove them myself.”

“Then take them off, baby, nobody’s stopping you.”

As she slides her body down and tugs down the hem of his pants, she takes careful notice of what looks as though it is ready to burst through his smallclothes. “Mm,” she hums, glancing up at him from between his legs. “I wonder…”

He doesn’t have time to ask before a groan tears itself from his throat. She isn’t even going down on him yet, but the sensation of her lips brushing against the fabric of his smallclothes… “Baby, if you’re not careful…” he shifts, and Miriel’s fingers hook beneath the cloth and tug down ever-so-slightly. Holy shit. “Gods, Miri, I’m gonna come before we get to the good part…”

“Then we’ll have to do it over and over until we have a proper sample group.”

Her tongue doesn’t waste any time once she rids him of his smallclothes and has him in her hand, and even though Vaike knows deep down that she usually means business when she does this, he moans as if he is taken completely by surprise. “H-holy… ah…” He can’t get out an edgewise word before Miriel’s tongue maps out every inch of his flesh. "Gods, baby… _Gods,_ that feels good…” The only thing she manages to offer between flicks of her tongue and parting of her lips is a soft moan against his flesh, and a satisfied smirk whenever the sounds he makes grow in volume.

_What the hell, Vaike, you’re always so good at dirty talk. Damn, dude, just bust it out._

“Baby, I— _ah…!”_ She takes him deeper and he arches his back, forced silent. Miriel can’t hear any discernible words beyond “Gods”, “fuck”, or some variation of the two.

After what feels to Vaike as a criminally short amount of time, she leaves him panting on the bed and removes her lips from him, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and she lets out a soft ‘ha’ at the sight before her. She takes a moment to poise herself over him and glance down at him, still gasping beneath her. “Now, remember, this is for science. Respond honestly: …better or worse than usual?”

“I don’t care how gross it is, Teach is drinking that elixir shit whenever you suck him off. Damn.”

“Better, then…?” Miriel smirks. “Excellent.” She tosses her hat aside hastily, and while she would usually concern herself about what befell it, she could have thrown it into an active volcano and not cared in the least. “I must admit…” she continues. “Though the sensation has been altered for the recipient of oral stimulation, I find the effects are quite different for the other party as well.” She wets her lips. “I quite enjoyed it,” she says with a demure smile. “It tingled. Quite pleasant indeed.”

“Gods, I wish you could know what that felt like.” Vaike purrs, giving her ass a light squeeze.

She hums, only a bit of laughter’s lilt seeping into her response. “It’s always troubled me, you know…” His lips trace her collarbone through her shirt and she lets out a puff of breath, cinching him closer. “That I can’t truly know the feeling.”

He chuckles. “That right…?”

Miriel hears a clinking of metal and looks down to find that he’d already undone her belt. She’d been so invested in the sensation of his lips trailing across her skin she hadn’t even noticed. “When did that happen…?”

“Just go with it. The Vaike’ll show you.”

Only seconds away from asking what in the world he was talking about, the pressure of fingers between her legs hits her and she can’t help but moan in both pleasure and surprise.

Vaike lets out an amused “heh” in response, his brow raised. The belt is gone, and he unbuttons her pants with her barely noticing through the overwhelming sensation of his fingers against her. “Go ahead and take ‘em off now.” For once, words don’t come from Miriel, only ragged breathing. No movement. She doesn’t even reach down and help him when he gently slides the hem of her pants down her legs, and she doesn’t protest when he rolls himself on top of her. “Huh. Normally you’d have something to say about that.”

Miriel shivers beneath him when he lifts her shirt slightly and presses a kiss against her abdomen. “Mm… normally we aren’t on a controlled substance. I’d just like to observe…” Her hands rest on his chest when he returns to kiss her, and she cinches her knees around his hips, gently rocking her body upward to rub against his bare flesh. Her eyes flutter shut, and she notices the sensation of Vaike’s skin against her, moving downward and not taking enough time to remove her smallclothes—only pushing them aside before an overwhelming pleasure radiates through her. Though Miriel tries to keep it concealed, a long moan tears from her throat. “A-ah…! Vaike…. Ah… y-your lips…”

He grabs her hand, threading his fingers through it, and he pauses a moment to enjoy the sting of her nails digging into the back of his own hand. “Don’t squirm, baby…” he orders firmly, and though Miriel isn’t used to him forcing control, she cedes, her instincts only allowing her to grab a fistful of his hair and rock herself gently against his mouth with a small hum that gradually grows louder and more ragged as he goes down on her.

Vaike finds a shift in his wife’s speech patterns, and instead of just a few casual sounds here and there, whispers of “Gods…” and “yes…” and “more…” pepper the moans that come from her, now almost entirely unrestrained even through the hand covering her mouth. He doesn’t look up until she squeezes her fist and tugs on his hair and drops an unexpected “fuck”.

He smirks, laughing slightly at her language. “Been hangin’ out with Sully lately, huh?”

The hand gripping his hair tightens and lightly pushes him towards her center again. “I don’t recall instructing you to stop.”

He obliges, sliding a couple fingers into her. “Me neither.”

Self-control is not an option now. No matter how she tries, she can’t stop her hips from bucking towards him. Only after a few moments of his tongue working against her flesh and his fingers sliding in an even rhythm can she finally force herself back into charge. A ragged moan tears from her throat, and Miriel shivers from the rush, panting heavily. Words don’t come to her. At this point all she can do is simply touch his face, draw his body upward into another deep kiss.

He’s still hard—his warmth presses up against her stomach, and when she rolls over, pushes his shoulders back down into the mattress, she kisses his neck again. “Oral and manual stimulation coupled with the elixir produce fascinating results, don’t you think…?” She whispers shakily, her lips nipping at his earlobe, and he tugs her shirt over her head, grasping at her breasts the moment they are free from her smallclothes.

“The Vaike approves…” Vaike mutters, his lips and tongue flicking against the peaks of her breast, and she leans over him, grinding her hips against his hardness. He lets out a breath of air, but meets her with a raise of his own hips, and they both moan rather loudly. “You…” he trails off, almost unable to continue the thought. His eyes trace to her smallclothes. The fabric rubs against him as Miriel’s hips slide forward, and though the sensation is incredible, he needs more. “You… wanna take those off any time soon…?” He finally murmurs, and Miriel exhales with a chuckle.

“Surely you’re not giving orders, Vaike,” She leans in, her voice lowering to an almost erotic murmur in Vaike’s ear. “When you’ve known for a long while that I _always_ assert control.” A soft trill of laughter from Miriel before she raises her body from his, still straddling him and bracing herself on his shoulders with her hands after she adjusts her glasses.

“Mm.” Vaike hums, before pressing his fingers once again against his wife’s center. Her arms buckle for a moment and she moans from the sensation before he continues to speak. “Damn, too bad. ‘Cause you ain’t the only one who can observe things.” She can’t manage to form words to respond, so he just keeps speaking to her in a low purr, rubbing her faster. “Like right now I’m observin’ you bitin’ your lip and lockin’ your jaw, which is what you do when you really, _really_ wanna fuck me.”

“A-ah… Vaike…” The mage has to relax her upper body into him; she can’t hold herself up like that anymore, but her husband’s fingers don’t slow, and she moans and buries her head in his neck.

Vaike’s lips press kisses along her neck and shoulder before he begins to speak again. He hooks his thumbs into the band of her smallclothes and leaves them there until she responds, but she needs a moment to catch her breath. “Plus… seein’ how this stuff _really_ works would be pretty fascinatin’, eh…?”

She doesn’t object when he tugs them downward, and when she finally sheds them, she glances back at Vaike for a moment. “Yes, I—” his lips cut her off, and she is perfectly fine with that. The time between their chaotic kisses, the touches that drew groans and moans from each other’s lips, and the pressure she feels within her as she settles herself onto him blurs from that point into a muddle of lazy thrusts and mumbled “I love you”s. Her hands force him down. Her lips press into the skin of his neck.

“Yes…”

Nothing has worn off… in fact, Miriel reckons they haven’t even gotten the brunt of it yet. But unprecedented all the same was how _good_ it was—nothing like any sort of experience she’d had before. The feeling simply consumes her. She speaks his name in harsh moans as their hips crash together in a heavy momentum. “That’s my girl…” Vaike growls deeply in her ear, his arms cinching her to him. Their skin brushes against each other’s, and that alone is overwhelming, but nothing compared to the sensation of their hips grinding together in a heavy, even rhythm. The words that were usually so effortlessly exchanged during their bouts are rendered to little more than soft moans and exchanges of breath into each other’s mouths. The only coherent thing said after is once again in Vaike’s harsh growl.

“Harder…”

And Miriel obliges, her hips working against him as roughly as she can manage, and she cries out his name. Vaike stirs beneath her, arching his back and moaning—he feels her curl her body as her own ecstatic moans grow louder—and he forces himself to buck his hips along with her when he hears his name roll off her tongue. It’s only a few thrusts later that Miriel’s breath gets harried, loud. Her body tenses against his as release pulses through her—the intensity catches her off-guard and she shivers against him, one final forceful moan tearing from her throat.

The power of the orgasm that radiated through Miriel entices Vaike to take over, thrusting his hips almost violently into her and riding out the waves of pleasure that throb through her body. It isn’t long before he himself is consumed by it and his own groans grow louder, and with one final thrust as deeply as he could, he releases himself into her. They both crumple against each other in a mass of ragged breath—Miriel’s glasses are crooked, but she doesn’t bother to correct them. The sensation of his hot, clammy skin pressed up against hers alone is enough to entice her to just fall asleep against him, but as her eyes flutter shut she realizes it’s taking much longer than anticipated for the both of them to catch their breath. Vaike can only touch his forehead to hers and smile, letting out a sound somewhere between a pant and a laugh. “That was amazin’.”

“I… I should say that our experiment was quite the success.” Miriel chuckles in response, her breath heavy as well. “All my hypotheses were correct.”

“So…” Vaike wraps an arm around her and she nuzzles herself into his body. “What was that stuff you cooked up anyway?”

Miriel only laughs, her eyes fluttering shut and absentmindedly reaching for the glasses on the bridge of her nose. “A potion containing ground _Lavandula libidinem._ It’s an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac.” With a clap of the temples of her glasses, she sets them aside and buries her cheek into the crook of his neck. “A few added herbs for increased tactile sensitivity, some tonics to increase production of serotonin, testosterone, and norepinephrine to ensure heightened endurance and overall performance..." she lets out a contented yet worn-out sigh. “I think I may just add something for taste next time.”

“That’d be a good plan--” Vaike pauses a moment to glance sidelong at his wife. “Wait, didn’t we take half of what we shoulda…? So… you wanted me to drink that whole thing…?”

Miriel’s eyes avert briefly as a small smile and a light dusting of pink fade onto her cheeks.

_“Miriel, I would die.”_

“Oh, balderdash,” She sighs with a chuckle. “There’s nothing in this that’s lethal, even when taken in large doses. Observable side effects to any combination of elements in the drink include an intense paralysis, but that’s about it.”

“Paralysis…?!”

“Observed in approximately 93.7% of prior trials, yes.”

Vaike’s eyes narrow and he purses his lips. “So you gave that to me because it’d keep me still—“

“While I performed whatever acts came to mind and happened to tickle my fancy?” a small chuckle trilled from Miriel, and she looks up at him with the same sort of false innocence he remembered seeing from Henry at times when he would hide dead animals behind his back. An odd comparison, but it was the one that came to mind nonetheless. “Why, Vaike, dear, why would I _ever_ want to do a thing like that…? Besides…” Vaike only notices her hand on his cheek when it starts to lightly caress his skin, still tingling from the effects of the drug. “You were very clearly able to move. Very… very clearly.”

Vaike can only laugh with a small “yeah…” before shutting his eyes lightly and leaning in to her body, humming softly when he feels the tingle of slender fingers thread through his hair.


End file.
